


Blue Morning (an Excerpt): Tell Me

by PhoenixDragon



Series: Blue Morning Excerpts [3]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Dark, Dubious Consent, Emotional Abuse, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Non Consensual, Psychological Drama, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con References, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-03
Updated: 2012-03-03
Packaged: 2017-11-01 02:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixDragon/pseuds/PhoenixDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>When he dared to look up, the Doctor was staring back steadily, dark eyes giving nothing away - posture just as unreadable as his face. He dropped the tie and backed away, scrubbing his hands over his face as he tried to work out what he was even doing here.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Morning (an Excerpt): Tell Me

It had been awhile - a long while, but the Doctor met him just outside the console room and didn't object to being led down the hall and guided into the first room the TARDIS provided. Actually he didn't say one word and that was not what Rory needed tonight.

He had been dreaming again, odd dreams of fire and passion and want - and he was starting to fear for his sanity. Even more so, it was getting difficult to sleep next to Amy knowing he was dreaming of the man in front of him, his fear of talking in his sleep or spilling what they were doing to her inadvertantly pushing him into such a state of paranoia it kept him awake long after his wife was asleep.

But he still couldn't make himself stop.

The Doctor was already undoing his tie, braces off his shoulders as he mutely made himself ready for whatever Rory had in mind for him. The dimness of the room hiding his expression as he undressed, each movement mechanical and unthinking.

This was not what Rory wanted tonight. He bit his lip to stop himself from yelling at the Time-Lord and just reached out to still his hands, heart twinging when the Doctor flinched at his sudden movement. He caressed those long fingers soothing him as best as he could while stepping in close, heart clenching again as the Doctor closed his eyes and tilted his head back, giving him access to the long, pale lines of his throat.

He placed a soft kiss just under the alien's jaw, backing him up slowly; wanting to rejoice and weep at the soft sound the Doctor made at the touch of his lips to that cool skin, the urge to rip at his clothes and fuck them both senseless stilled only by the small voice of want that bothered him day and night now.

"Tell me to stop," Rory whispered. "Just tell me to...to stop touching you, because I can't _not_ touch you anymore. Tell me something, Doctor."

The Doctor shook his head, refusing to speak or refusing to stop him – either way Rory couldn't tell. He tried to keep the mix of emotions off of his face as he leaned in to kiss the Time-Lord, a gentle touching of lips that melted into a bruising clash, his own lips forcing the Doctor's apart so he could lick at the inside of his mouth.

He broke it off after barely a minute, reaching up to stroke the velvety strip of the other man's bowtie, other hand dangling uselessly by his side; still unable to look the Doctor in the face.

"I wish you'd speak - make some type of noise, a sound...let me know what it is I'm suppose to be doing here."

When he dared to look up, the Doctor was staring back steadily, dark eyes giving nothing away - posture just as unreadable as his face. He dropped the tie and backed away, scrubbing his hands over his face as he tried to work out what he was even doing here. They had virtually stopped their game weeks ago. He hadn't approached the Doctor and the Doctor made no indication that this bothered him; that it made him feel anything at _all_ , really.

"I can't. I'm sorry...I can't do this," Rory rasped brokenly. "You aren't giving me anything to go on and I can't -"

_Be in love with you and Amy, too._

The Doctor nodded, eyes fluttering close briefly before he nudged his braces back over his shoulders, those elegant, deft fingers fixing his tie quicker than Rory could really track. He was pulled back together faster than Rory could blink, eyes soft but still unreadable as he turned to leave, body going shockingly still when Rory brushed his fingers over his elbow on his way past.

"Anything, Doctor – just...tell me what I should do. Tell me to stop, because if you don't..."

The Doctor tilted his head in Rory's direction, giving only the slightest of nods before he was on his knees, those quick and nimble fingers making short work of Rory's trousers fastenings. All Rory could do was breathe and keep still, biting back a moan as the Doctor's mouth found his half hard cock, his tongue proving as nimble as his fingers as he swallowed the growing length of him, hands loose on Rory's hips to keep them both steady.

Rory did quite know what to do with his hands, the urge to goad the Doctor's action wrestled with the need to repel him; the warm, familiar feel of the alien's mouth on his cock making his inner conflict worse instead of better.

The Doctor nudged gently at his hips, propelling him backwards until something hit the back of his knees. He instinctively collapsed at the insistent push, awed and pleased as the Doctor's mouth followed him down; the head of Rory's cock gliding smoothly deeper into the Doctor's throat as his body came to rest in the armchair that hadn't been there two seconds before.

He gave in as the Doctor crowded between his sprawled legs, burying his fingers deep into those warm tresses, thrusting up as the Doctor's throat worked around his dick. The alien's hands were cool and heavy on this thighs and he spread them, coughing back a groan as the Doctor hummed around the flesh in his mouth; the almost obscene sight of the Time-Lord's head rising and falling over the open vee of his zipper enough to make him want to cum right then. Sheer willpower was the only thing that held him back.

He let go of the fight inside his head, the war between what he should do and what he is doing , and just let the sensation of this moment wash over him. The feel of the soft chair holding his body up, the warm weight of the Doctor between his legs and the pleasure that pulsed through his veins with each lick, every graze of the Doctor’s teeth against him. He let himself indulge in the wet, hot, pulling, sliding feel of the Doctor’s mouth on him, knowing this was all he could have with him. Somehow, this was all he had come to mean to the alien; the man who waited for Amy, the man the Doctor crawls on his hands and knees for. It broke Rory’s heart even as it brought with it a fierce triumph. There was no one else who could do this, have this with the Doctor – but it axed any hope for friendship or comfort in the face of it all.

Regretfully, Rory pushed gently at the Doctor’s shoulders , mild nudges and pats indicating he should stop. With a small sound (so quiet you had to listen for it to even hear it) the Doctor stopped, lips sliding slowly off, with a final suck to the head of his dick before it too, was released from the sweet heat of the alien’s mouth.

The Doctor leaned back on his knees, head down (waiting, always waiting), that ridiculous, sexy scattering of bangs obscuring his eyes, keeping his thoughts hidden behind them; the darkness around them making him almost float in front of Rory; the air in the room now too constricting and painful to even breathe.

“Tell me,” Rory breathed, heart clenching in his chest at how lost they both were; how they needed each other even as they were so bad for each other. It was a circle that was bound to end badly, but he couldn’t see a way out without the Doctor showing him where it was. “Tell me what I need to do here – I don’t know anymore and…tell me, Doctor. Tell me –“

“Use me.”

Rory startled at the interruption, staring down at the alien crouched at his feet as his mind processed what he’d said. The Doctor’s voice was no more than a whisper, but he could have shouted it and it still wouldn’t have made sense, even as it banged away like a bullet ricochet in Rory’s head.

“You – what?” Was the most Rory could manage, wishing the Doctor would move, would look at him – something, _anything_ – because he couldn’t have heard that right.

“Use me,” the Doctor clarified, head still tilted to the floor, body as still and serene as the midwinter sky.

“You know this is wrong,” Rory rasped. “All of it – this is…this is wrong. I don’t even know what I’m doing here, what I’m doing with you, _to_ you. I just I need you to tell me to stop.”

“Rory –“

“Tell me.” Rory pleaded.

The Doctor said nothing, body curling in on itself (for mere seconds) before he moved, eyes ancient as he raised his head to look Rory in the eye. He quickly looked away again, face haunted and gray in the poor light as those eyes fluttered closed (briefly, so briefly) words dancing at the edges of his lips, just where Rory could see them; those same lips swollen and dark, only serving to remind Rory of what the Doctor had been doing with them before he made him stop.

He shook his head and started to rise to his feet, freezing when Rory’s fingers numbly clutched at his sleeve, halting him; though the Doctor still wouldn’t look him in the face. There was something significant in that, but Rory was too torn to examine it closely, his heart not wanting the Doctor to leave looking like that. Like he had been exposed – raw and bleeding – and then just left to die, his eyes wounds that bled fresh even when they were shuttered away.

“Please, Doctor,” Rory whispered, knowing he was begging but unable to help himself, pride be damned. “I don’t…I don’t know what you mean, I –“

“Use me,” the Doctor repeated, body trembling beneath Rory’s touch even as he sat frozen, one knee underneath him and the other stretched out; halted in mid-flight. “Use me up, take what you need from me and feel no guilt for it. There’s…you are not obligated to me in any way, Rory – you never have been. And if you want to stop –“

_Because of Amy_

“ – I understand. We can end this…but only if you want to. If you don’t…if you don’t there is no need to feel guilt. I know you love her – _you_ know you love her, how can you not? But if you need it…you can just use me, take what you want and –“

He stopped there, eyes averted, gasping as if he had run a marathon; body shaking outright now, his whole being exposed and raw in front of Rory’s eyes. Rory felt as if he had been gut punched when the Doctor squared his shoulders, forcing himself to look at him, those ancient eyes dark, wracked with a terrible pain Rory couldn’t even begin to imagine.

“You don’t have to care, Rory. Just this once – _you don’t have to care._ ”

**To Be Continued...**

**Author's Note:**

> **Original Posting Date at Livejournal: November 20, 2011**
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> **General Warnings and Disclaimers at Part One**


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